


what are we gonna do now?

by jemmasimmns (laurellance)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: civil war spoilers, it's all platonic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6779725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurellance/pseuds/jemmasimmns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the months that follow, Captain America and his crusade of heroes (as the media calls them) become common house hold names. Steve Rogers, aiding the notorious war criminal Bucky Barnes, had garnered various reactions: ranging from betrayal, to confusion, to even the protestation in a minority. </p><p>Meanwhile, they reside in a Wakandan state-of-the-art complex while Scott Lang absentmindedly hums to himself, as if transferring prisons was a natural thing to him. Clint just wants a bottle of something alcoholic. </p><p>(Or, the aftermath of the prison break conducted by Steve Rogers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. we're shell-shocked loons; going mad in our heads.

**Author's Note:**

> Civil War Spoilers ahead- Read at own risk!!!

When T’Challa drops them off at the complex, they’re in various states mentally and physically. Scott’s become Wanda’s second tail, and is trying to comfort her from what had just happened (She does smile absentmindedly when he describes one of the more colourful descriptions of the Stark family Hank Pym had once told him, and he counts it as progress), Sam’s just happy to be out, and Clint is sore, pissed, cranky and watching over Wanda from a distance. 

Steve and a one-handed Bucky had broken them out of their Azkaban jail cells, both looking as if hell had rained over them. Bucky had pretty much taken to just leaning on Steve for support, looking older than he physically was already. 

Scott wants to laugh when he finds out that T’Challa was offering them shelter. _A prison for another prison_ , and he almost gives a mirthless laugh because even if this highly secure, complex facility looks nice it’s still a prison if they aren’t allowed out of it. 

Scott finds it funny that they’re exploring the complex like it’s a new adventure. They’d be sick of the cleanliness of it in a few weeks max, regardless. Still, he keeps an eye on Wanda, who looked as if she was in shell-shock. 

“Hey, Wanda. Are you with me?” Her eyes are cloudy, and he’d guess whatever legality he had left that her mind went back to the imprisonment. “You’re out of the jail cell, you’re free.”

She barely responds to it. “You’re in Wakanda, remember that Steve freed us from the jail cell?”

She doesn’t verbally respond, but he has a feeling that the fact she had grabbed his and for physical comfort said it all. She ends up falling asleep next to him, on one of the many close-to-unused couches, her body curling and looping around his.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Clint scours the fridges in the facility, scowling at the fact that there was no alcohol in sight. No beer, no vodka, not even a drop of fermented _rotting_ wine he could use to distract himself. Wanda was with Scott, and there is nothing more he wants to do right now than punch Tony Stark until Stark was bleeding and unconscious. 

Hence, why he needs the alcohol. He’s too self constrained usually, and once he had enough shots, he could usually manage himself a nice bar brawl. However, there is none, and no one to ask because T’Challa (how was he supossed to know if he could trust this person or not), Sam, Steve and Bucky had ran to some other part of the compound. 

He finally finds a bottle of Merlot, with what appeared to be 15% alcohol content. It’s ironic, the last time he had been forced to drink it (he usually preferred beer) was when Nat was still _Black Widow_ and they had been playing their usual mind games back then-

She had kissed him that night, over the table, knocking over their wine (ironically, the year and company of the bottles had not changed) and claimed it was an ‘accident.’ He accidentally pours a few drops onto the clean floor, and leaves the wine there, just to make the place look less hellsome. 

He finds Wanda curled up on the newbie, body all over the place as she had clearly latched onto him for comfort. (He thinks that if he ever finds the motherfucker whose sick idea it was to bind her up like that, they wouldn’t make it out alive.) 

The newbie looked like he was about to doze off, but Clint knows that that wasn’t the case. The former prison that Lang had been held in was apparently a hell-hole filled with the pettiest of crimes, but the living conditions looked rather desirable compared to this clean place. Lang, it seemed, hadn’t cared either way, and just took it. They’d physically restrained Wanda back, and he’s entirely sure that he was going to make _goo_ of the asswipe who had the idea to physically constrain her.

The newbie looks back at him, a duffel bag dumped at the bottom of his feet. It’s the shrinking suit, and by the looks of it, other personal crap he had grabbed on the go. There are ordinary items scattered in with it, nothing that appeared to be trackable. Just small ordinary household objects that Clint would kill for right there.

He seems to be guarded, and Clint takes a sip of the wine. It’s close to flavourless. 

The newbie nods to him, for reasons he doesn’t understand, and closes his eyes to rest. Wanda slumps all over him, and if he almost closes his eyes, it’d look normal to him. 

He holds that image and falls asleep, to a land where he wasn't incarnated in a Azkaban prison, a land where he imagines his ex Bobbi flirting with the equivalent of a British Scumbag Mercenary and calling it only a fling. Guess the wine did help. (Not really.)

* * *

 

Sam’s glad to be out. That much he can say without hesitation, although he can’t say they all made it out unharmed. Steve looked partially in shock, and he figures now would not be the best time to ask what happened to Bucky’s arm, or lack there of. 

Bucky’s partially leaning on Steve, looking to be in shock more than anything. Steve’s carrying himself with weariness, and Sam trails them as T’Challa leads them to the medical center. The others (left at the couch area) had looked exhausted, not including Tic Tac who had not changed behaviour wise, but had still eyed the place with distaste. 

Still; he’s worried about them. The prison had never shifted, but there was a danger he had learned in the idea of forced isolation- it tested you, especially when the people were so close but you couldn’t say or do anything. The place, he knows, would definitely haunt him later on. 

Even so, he’s more worried about Cap and Bucky. They’re exhausted, bloodied, and battered, and he’s only looking at the surface. 

They were all emotion wrecks, him included. So he watches Cap coax Bucky onto a bed to rest, and he nods once at Steve before heading off to find the nearest surface he could collapse on. (He finds the couch area, and collapses onto the third couch in the rectangle they were situated in: Tic-Tac and Wanda were in some weird position, and Clint had spilled wine on himself. Doesn’t stop him from collapsing onto the couch in total exhaustion.)


	2. collect our sins and regroup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's some kinda progress they've got going; not linear, not in some kind of curve they teach in basic algebra, but the kinda curve that goes all over the place- progressing and regressing all at once.

When Scott wakes up, there's a blanket that had clearly wrapped with care around him and Wanda. She’s still all over him, only he gets the sense it's more for physical comfort than anything. Her eyes are partially open, and she’s definitely readjusting. (Something that he recalls hasn't been that big a problem for him, cause he has always known Luis, but she had had it much harder than him.)

“You're in Wakanda. The Cat dude brought us here after Steve broke us out, remember?” He's got a feeling that she's gonna need these reality checks, because she nods instantly but the fear of returning always remains. 

He finds two more blankets on the couch -where had the third one come from, he wanders absentmindedly as Wanda gets off him, and he smells food nearby. It's the cat dude, and Clint and Sam and Cap and co are eating breakfast.  _ What time was it anyway? _ He can't tell the time these days, not accurately anyway- he's guessing that it's noon, based on the sunlight.

* * *

 

As it had turned out, T’Challa had covered them with blankets in their sleep. Clint senses it was out of sympathy, if nothing else, while the newbie acts as if it was normal. 

There was also the topic no one wanted to talk about: how they were in essence, taken in by the enemy out of pity and were very much considered criminals by the general public. This much Scott notices, they way they were acting as if nothing had changed and they weren't in a complex in Wakanda and not America. 

“So, are we just gonna pretend that we’re not wanted criminals, or are we going to actually talk about it? Because there's no point in pretending that's not what everyone’s denying.” They're staring at him, in what appears to be incredulous shock, and Scott’s not denying anything. 

“The law wants our heads, hence the underwater prison or whatever we were imprisoned in. It's easily concealable, and no common criminal would be put there. And I looked at the system they had for one brief second- it's pretty much a institutionalised asylum of the modern century.” 

He’s letting it sink in for them: to attempt to hypothetically break someone out of it would be nigh impossible, and that's being realistic. They're watching him, waiting for him to finish up it seemed. If only he could tell Cassie, or even Luis.. (He wants to.)

“Not to steal Cap’s spotlight- no offence to you Cap- but we could have easily been there for years if we hadn't been broken out. The system is too good- the location just makes it easier to conceal, cause it's not in plain sight.” He's sure the unspoken finale of his impromptu speech is obvious:  **_we are high end targets_ ** . 

The Wakandan prince tells them the compound is theirs to use, theirs to live in. It's safe, at the very least. No immediate fear of the US Military knocking on their door, and Scott’s sure that the compound is located in a obscure land, as the nature around him seemed to indicate. 

What he wouldn't do for a ice cold beer right now. And some of Luis’s waffles, as he watches Wanda laugh with the Archer dude.

* * *

 

The only apt comparison Clint could make to how he felt was that it felt like the day after serious drinking was done, and he woke up covered in various bruises, clothes smelling like piss and alcohol, and a killer headache. 

Except those got better after a day or two. They usually weren't compounded with a Tic-Tac sized crook who basically told them they were screwed. 

He ends up talking to Wanda: she's more coherent now, seemed in better spirits now. But still shaken, and it's plenty obvious in the way she deliberately gets closer to him. She's holding onto him for comfort, and Tic-Tac seems to be lost in nostalgia anyway. 

Tic-Tac’s duffel is still by the couch, and Clint does not get why Tic-Tac had randomly taken shit in addition to his shrinking suit. He’d went through the stuff, and had grabbed others in the duffel he had picked up from there. 

“Tic-Tac.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is there a reason for the random crap in the duffle?”

“It’s to fix the suit- it has the parts needed.” Clint wasn't even aware the suit needed tinkering, but he suspects it's more for boredom than actual fixing. 

Clint grunts, and goes back to nursing his cup of wine. The price, T’Challa, had confirmed there was no alcohol, just the bottles of imported wine his dad kept for showing off to foreigners if they ever visited. 

Well that, and they used the bought whiskey for medicinal purposes.

* * *

 

Sleep helps them more than anything else, it had turned out that Steve had fallen asleep onto the same bed as Bucky, and so they woke up half their limbs on the other, in what appeared to a awkward hug gone wrong. If Bucky was embarrassed, he didn’t say; Steve had been the one who reacted to it.  _ Like old times? _ Bucky teases, because even if he had no idea it was still worth trying to get a laugh outta Stevie. He does not remember much by any means, but whatever worked at this point. 

It wasn’t like things could get worse anymore, they were already internationally wanted criminals as it was. Sunlight had streamed in from the window, and as they disentangled themselves from the other, Bucky finds himself a brief moment of peace. 

Steve had left him at one of the checkpoints in the place, after he single handedly defeated all guards with his fists. He’d left Bucky on one of the chairs (a cushioned one, he notes, in the room where they kept all the stuff) and left him there with the promise he’d be back. Bucky barely recalls anything from anything after that, just Sam and the others following Cap out, them collecting their stuff, and making it to this place where Steve had lead him to this separate chamber. 

-and this was the day after; Bucky finds himself holding a breath he doesn’t remember breathing (then again, he didn’t remember many things, but he did know what else he knew to be true was precious and worth fighting for no matter what) and softly exhales as Steve waits for him. 

He does know that he’ll have to get used to the lack of the metal arm, because his internal balance is very off, but he still doesn’t hold a grudge against Stark. Stark was angry, yes, but it was understandable- even so, the deaths were his fault, his fault. He had still done them, regardless, and they were still dead because of him.

* * *

 

Wanda supposes, that she could easily kill them all while they were eating. It’s such a nonchalant thought, but the prison had changed her, and maybe that is why she lets herself lean in on Scott until he wakes. He is a comfortable presence, one that reminded her of home- much like Clint, he reminds her of comfort, of not the talking, but the physical kind. 

She found out that her thoughts had gone very dark places, when she finds herself awake at 2AM in the morning just waking up. She had found herself lying atop of the new person, who was thoroughly asleep. He didn’t seem intimidating then, not that he had ever had the feeling of intimidation to him- that was Stark. No, his natural inclination was warm, and for that she is grateful, as she lies on across his body. He is warm, and the warmth is welcoming, and she falls asleep easily. 

Nonetheless, she knows that could she have wanted to, she could have killed them all at once. The forks could be used to make their throats bleed to death, the glass lodged in their heart. She supposes these thoughts would disturb, but she has dreamt of these thoughts as punishment for Stark for years: now would not change a single thing. 

But she continues to eat and laugh with Clint, and she has the feeling that these will be the people she will be around for a long time now; the speech the other gives only enforces it.

* * *

 

Scott fishes out the child’s watch he had grabbed by accident from the duffel. It’s a small thing, but it had so clearly reminded him of  _ Cassie _ that he chose to take it anyway.  _ So much for going with the law _ , and it’s such a bittersweet thought that he thinks he could choke on the heartbreak on it alone. He wagers it will be a minimum of five years before the world can calm down with it, and even then it would still be on their minds almost instantly. 

Either way, it was a lose-lose situation and he was staring at a child’s rabbit decorated watch for who knows how long. 

“I had a brother once. Pietro.” Wanda’s suddenly on the couch next to him, and her voice is laced with nostalgia. (He knows nostalgia only gets worse in situations like these- because the desire becomes a second sense in the mind, and it bends and warps memories into the great heists old men too old to fight used to tell as motivation.) 

“We grew up together, in Sokovia. Until Stark killed our parents, and we were given our powers from the septor. Then, he became everything I had.” Her voice is quiet, and only the archer dude is nearby, and Scott thinks that she is telling the story for his benefit, no one else. 

“Was it a good death?” That was the thing wasn’t it? Scott knew what it was like to see people be screwed over by people with too much power, and the victims were never given closure in the legal way. It had been why he had turned to crime in the first place- use it as a tool to help others, to play Robin Hood at his own personal cost. But people that played Robin Hood, that fought for what no one else was willing to die for, they saw the worst of the damage. The anger, the death, the way it destroyed people- in the end, they probably caused more problems than what they were trying to fight against. 

“He died protecting me from bullets,” the archer adds and Wanda nods.

Scott puts the watch on the table. “It reminded me of my daughter, Cassie.” There was the illustration of a rabbit’s face in the background, and he desperately wants to return home to them and apologise, or even tell them that he isn’t gonna be home for a while. But he figures that they already know, with them being harassed for just being associated with them and all. “She’s ten; she looks up to me.” It sounds embarrassing now, admitting to strangers- but they seem to take it into stride, and that’s that. 

“She must have a good father then.” Wanda finishes, and that’s the end of that. The silence isn’t the best thing, but now it seemed silence was one of the few things that remained constant.

* * *

 

T’Challa leads Sam, Steve and Bucky around the complex. The couch area he didn’t need to introduce- that part was particularly easy to identify, especially when it seemed to be the primary location of the other three members of their party. Other than that, he leads them around the different floors, with their various state of the art materials and technologies. It’s loose banter, casual, but still there remains an undercurrent of paranoia- Bucky never stops looking over his shoulder, Steve constantly looks back to Bucky, and Sam strays further behind, following the two of them like a tail. 

The place is large and vast, and is entirely foreign. Bucky does not recall ever visiting this place, nor would he easily fit in he thinks. Even if it was incredibly modernised, there was still the sense of Wakandan culture in it- in the way there were wood carvings everywhere, in the patterning of the decorations, in the materials used. The place stood as a testament of Wakandan royalty, and yet it was used as a safe house for dangerous international refugees.  

T’Challa didn’t mind; he welcomed them to stay as long as they needed: which given the few clues to the outside world he alluded to a few times, sounded like they were going to be permanent residents for a while. Steve and Sam made small talk, and Bucky just listened, adding in a comment every now and then. 

It was nice and peaceful for the time being.

* * *

 

Wanda locates a TV sometime later: she can’t tell time in days anymore, it’s become very much of a fluid cycle of waking up, eating, talking to whoever, eating, and sleep. Time in itself becomes a very loose concept, and days become indistinct as time becomes told in times of the sun. 

Sam tries to keep time straight, but even he gives up sometime later, sitting next to Clint, both staring wistfully at cups of wine imagining them to be proper alcoholic beverages you could get drunk off of. Steve and Bucky mainly keep to themselves, as they’d eventually be dubbed the shadow of the other. Which, in many ways, had been a source of amusement: sending Bucky on a task for Steve when Steve followed unaware, convincing Steve to go find something for Bucky for Bucky to follow in silent pursuit. 

Still, the finding of the TV is a mixed reaction. It’s decidedly not a good thing, but it felt good to see some recollected reference to their modern society even if they felt the farthest from it. 

The first channel they land on is FOX news. The news, of course, was asking about the location of criminals: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Scott Lang, and Clint Barton. It’s watched by Scott, Wanda and Clint out of morbid curiosity, because they’ve had many a conversation about how bad their reputations are, but it’s still traumatic enough that they end up taking a long hike into the woods nearby for a week. 

Bucky watches from a distance; the floor of the woods gets covered with more and more branches and he’s sure he spots more than a few arrows fly around. In the end, they come back sweaty and covered in various kinds of muck, dragging all their stuff in the duffel Scott had stolen from the jail. 

He goes to visit with Steve on a private trip; the few acres they had travelled through had trees with cut off limbs, branches scattered all over over the woodlands floor, and an entire patch of the woods is destroyed, showing like a blind spot from a sniper’s view. Which Bucky still can’t do, and T’Challa confirms that Stark’s son still has his left arm. Delightful.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH- I woke up the next day to 300ish views and over ten fic subs just over the course of less than 24 hours (+20ish kudoses) so thank you for that!!!!! <3333 
> 
> Feel free to request stuff in my [inbox](http://raypalmur.tumblr.com/asks) here if you want, or just hit me up on my tumblr @raypalmur!!!!! (seriously, i've pretty much been on cloud nine for 24ish hours so _thank you_ )


	3. T'Challa thinks they're children. that is all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they drive t'challa mad + angst + fluff

One day they end up in a heated and enthusiastic conversation over the jail break. It’s one of those days where time is more fluid than more of what’s the usual, and Bucky and Steve join them. T’Challa was off attending some conference for ‘regulating superheros’ or as Scott so cynically dubbed it- “How do we make these people look worse than they already are? Villainising 101!” None of them had expected him to be cynical to the criminal system, but then again close proximity to the same group of people over long periods of time does that. 

Wanda smiles endearingly at it, as if her hatred for all things Stark hadn’t resulted in her destroying square kilometres of forest. It had; T’Challa had specifically requested that she focus her powers on objects not sacred to Wakandan history and culture. Bucky finds himself cracking a smile when Scott turns the story into a mimic Tony Stark fest- Scott’s hatred for Stark had always been a constant throughout, something that would greatly develop on Wakanda. 

It’s funny, because moments like these were exceedingly rare- usually Clint, Scott and Wanda were lazing around on the couch just talking or mucking about while SteveBucky (as Clint had called them that by accident one day and that stuck) ran around the complex and Sam followed. Usually SteveBucky ended up finding T’Challa at one point, or played in the med centre, but since T’Challa was absent and the doctors couldn’t do anything about Bucky’s left arm, they were at the couch wasting time. 

The lack of alcohol (no matter how much they annoyed T’Challa about it) stayed. Apparently they were ‘destructive enough without alcohol’ as it was- which wasn’t true, they had  _ only _ ended up destroying 20% of the forest surrounding the complex. Which wasn't a lot. (T’Challa looked at them as if they were idiots.)

And somehow they had depleted the show off wine, which according to Clint should not have been possible. He had called it piss poor- and the bottle still remained empty no matter how many times Clint denied it. 

Somehow, Scott recalls grinning at the jail break- it's one of those things they picked up early on, that Scott’s criminal past pretty much dictated his views and experiences. He knew and went for the small routes, worked with the amoral low-lifes, and he says that jailbreaks were more commonly done in movies than real life since most criminals didn't actually do it unless the person was  _ super _ important to them. Somehow they don't doubt it- the prison customs that Scott mentioned passingly gave some indication of it.

Wanda had been more impatient, grown darker. The angry rages over Stark came back, which became very apparent when neutrality regarding Stark (only ever from Sam and Steve these days, Bucky had been apathetic to Stark but the constant comments Stark made that they witnessed on television regarding them made him very annoyed at once.) was regarded as a good thing. 

Sam has remained positive, always the starter of conversations- Clint and Scott occasionally threw in comments here and there, but had ultimately remained decent in the jail time.

The only thing that had majorly changed was that they had no sense of time afterwards-  waking up at noon, two am, it made no real difference to them. Insomnia never really occurred, but they had developed what could be called paranoid tendencies- sleeping with one eye open at all times, becoming highly distrustful of those they didn't know, always looking over their shoulder. 

Sam says that a psychologist would have a field day if they knew how they thought. Their behavioural patterns would be groundbreaking in how traumatic events affected survivors. 

T’Challa likes to call them children- much to their disagreement. (They were not children, they were all perfectly capable adults with behavioural and mental functions that the ordinary adult did not have. Which did not help their case at all.)

* * *

 

At the same time Bucky makes up his mind. Cryo’s the best option, especially in this sense of captivity, because with it he knows he won't be able to hurt anyone. 

Steve protests when he tells him, and even if Bucky had already expected the “you're worthwhile” lecture, it still felt nice to hear anyway. Even if it was blatantly lies, at least the sugar coating of “you're a mass murderer who remembers how every victim well” was some kind of relief. 

But he's thought this over already. He's already very much made his mind up- it's the safest way for everyone. 

Wanda points out that should he go back to cryo, he would wake up eventually to find even Steve older, or perhaps dead.  _ You can't let your fear control you,  _ she says,  _ you have to keep it under control _ . Wanda wants to add:  _ fear riddles your mind, it dictates it. Don't let HYDRA control you, they will only ever win if you don't control your fear.  _ But she doesn't, because she's seen glimpses of his mind and HYDRA dictates him mentally and she knows he won't listen.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, there continues to be man hunts for them. T’Challa reports back that security includes X-Ray scanning, DNA Identification, and even more advanced facial ID tracking tech- there's a 5 Billion bounty on just a successful lead, much less what the compensation of capturing one of them alive was. 

The night is one where everyone is pre-occupied. Bucky is still not in cryo (and for once is a normal one compared to the others- Scott was missing street crime and had started throwing stuff from his duffel into the wall trying to dent it, Clint had had arrows flying for a afternoon, and Wanda was talking to Sam and Steve in low voices.) and was all by himself when he stumbles upon Lang. 

He doesn't think he's ever had a proper conversation with the Ant sized man before. But here he was, sullenly throwing junk at the wall. If the other knew he was there, he made no indication. The wall gets bombarded with various knick knacks, and it’s a decent sort of dissociative calm.

* * *

 

Stark gives Bucky’s left arm to T’Challa as a half year anniversary of his father's death. “For a remembrance,” Stark boasts, in his note, and really had it been quite a half year? It felt slower than that.

Scott’s not surprised: he doesn't think he has quite grasped time the same ever since prison (the first time), but he wouldn't be at this point. The news seems to have died down a bit, although it is noted that Natasha Romanoff and Sharon Carter had gone missing a while back, and they're still hunted. But they're not the big pressing news anymore, at least for the time being. 

He misses Luis’s waffles; Cassie’s birthday would have already passed. (It doesn't stop him from missing them.)

* * *

 

They don’t know whose idea it was to repair the arm, but the logic had went: Scott had a degree in electrical engineering ( _ I work with power! Not building or fixing shit! _ ) and had a shrink suit, therefore he could look at the interior of the arm. The others could attempt to fix the exterior, and T’Challa was willing to give them the needed vibranium. 

Bucky and T’Challa share a pained look, and walk away from the bickering group of Wanda, Sam, Steve, Scott and Clint.

* * *

 

The work on the arm turns out to be slow and painful and Bucky goes to bug T’Challa cause Steve  _ really _ liked the idea of fixing the arm and used the fact he was Captain America to force the Ant-person to suit up and map out the interior of the arm.

Ant-person takes a week of shrinking to map out the arm, and spends two to three fixing the circuiting while Bucky eventually runs out of excuses to use and is forced to stay and watch as the tiny man swore non stop about how dirty the interior of the arm was.

… Bucky missed cryo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @raypalmur, so yall can catch me there :D 
> 
> (also i extended the length so yeah )


	4. see you again bucky (hello soon ladies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the work on the arm continues, the ladies find Hank Pym, and Bucky goes into cryo.

Scott grudgingly admires the USSR for their cleverness. This much, he surmises from the sheer complexity of the arm- the amount of circuiting and metal plates constructed into a mechanical arm with  _ weapons _ made in the 1950’s, highly impressive. 

The maintenance had to be hell; the sides of the plates hadn't corroded over time, but the levels of filth on the interior of the plates had accumulated into levels that could only come from decades worth of neglect. 

The arm was spontaneously an engineer’s nightmare and wet dream, and Scott’s sure that Sam winces from the other side of the comm at that comparison. 

It was still better than the time he had had to listen to Wanda and Clint argue with Sam and T’Challa over who the biggest idiot was: Wanda and Clint argued Steve while Sam and T’Challa argued Bucky. Scott thinks he could have easily lived without knowing how passionate Steve and Bucky looked at the other. So, payback.

* * *

 

T’Challa gave Bucky three weeks to reconsider. Bucky doesn't need three weeks of agony and arguing to know he wants to go back under; it's for everyone's protection either way. 

He still wakes up thinking they'll find all his triggers, that should he be free they’d use him as a weapon again. 

Steve stays up with him those nights, and Sam is usually outside the door just standing guard. One time, he remembers where Sam had ended up telling him stories of Steve to calm him down; either way, he's not worth the trouble, never really has been to begin with. 

He requests that the cryochamber be prepared as soon as possible.

* * *

 

Bucky can fully say he is surprised that T’Challa could get the cryo chamber ready in two days. “Thank you,” he whispers, giving him a half hug in the process (he misses the arm). 

Steve doesn't know; Steve  _ can’t  _ know, not until it's too late and Steve can't be there to stop him or talk him out of it. 

It's better for all of them; cause they'll be safe and he won't cause them any worry. Because until they find a solution to rid of HYDRA’s influence, he can't trust himself, nor can allow himself to trust his own mind until then. 

T’Challa’s a gift, Bucky knows this very well.

* * *

 

Steve tries to talk him out of it. As much as Bucky had anticipated it, the way Steve has looked still broke his heart, but it's still all for the better good. 

He has a feeling Steve knows this; and maybe it's comforting that they're still using physical comfort, because Bucky really had treasured the nights where they'd fall asleep in one bed and end up smothering the other in one way or another. 

-and this, was goodbye. This was a goodbye and it’s bittersweet, because Bucky does care about the others, but he's putting himself first and foremost. 

As the ice freezes over, he finally feels at peace, his demons alleviated. (Steve's heart breaks.)

* * *

 

“So we have to find this Russian journal?”

“The likelihood finding the damn thing is impossible.”

“It's been months- how are we gonna find it when all the stuff’s been moved and transported and crap?”

“We have no choice- it's the only way to make Bucky better.”

“We’ll trace the steps of where we knew Zemo stayed.”

“Is there even guar- ow!”

“The journal would have been hidden, Zemo would have never let anyone take it. It's too precious.”

“Wanda, I hate- wait no I didn't mean that way, you're flawless, beautiful, gorgeous, don't kill me!”

“Too much experience doing it with your ex-wife?”

“Clint….”

“I'll shut up now.”

* * *

 

**+interlude**

Sharon pulls her (dyed) light brown hair back into a ponytail, and the side bangs brush against her eyebrows in annoyance. Giving the poorly chosen cut a stink eye, she gathers what little she has into the pocket of her Starbucks uniform, and heads out of the shady, rundown apartment she had illegally rented from some criminals nearby. 

They’d mentioned missing a “Scotty”, and had told her to head to Pym Tech if she needed help outside of the law; Sharon had wanted to laugh when she saw the news that Hank Pym stood against everything Tony called for, and it's bittersweet in a sense she's never expected it to be. 

The reports wrote him off as a old man, bitter and deluded. She’s thinking of dropping by later, and it's a fairly normal day of work. One of the Pyms coming in annoyed and disgruntled, some mention of how Scott Lang and co were not criminals, the usual. It's funny how everyone here was venomously anti-registration: Sharon doesn't even think they understood how bad the Accords had fucked things up, but she is sure that the criminals charged of petty crimes hated it. 

She listens for rumours: whispers of news disregarded as nonsense, the things drunken idiots said when they weren't in full control. The past few months pained her, and Sharon looks at her too thin waist line and ignores the constant paranoia that people wouldn't  _ not  _ call her Alicia Calez. 

She wonders how Steve and Sam and Bucky were doing; how they were, if they were doing okay. Probably not, and she desperately misses Aunt Peggy's advice. 

The next customer is a blonde haired Nat. Dressed as a cold, chic and stylish woman, a hat covered the top of her head- Sharon almost wants to chuckle, who would have thought? 

“Natalia. A Ice Coffee.” She knows it's Nat, because only Nat would let her natural accent slip for a particular purpose. She passes Nat her coffee, and leaves a slip of paper with her location on it. 

The day passes uneventful after that, and when she returns back to the run-down apartment in the centre of the poorer districts Nat is lounging on the couch, her hair revealing Bright Red roots, a stark contrast to the light yellow of the rest of it.

“Have you heard anything from the others?” Sharon knows how thin the walls are, and she grabs her half filled diary, turning to the back, and scrawling onto the page:  _ do you know where they are?  _

Nat smiles at her, and grabs her hand in what was meant to look romantic. She reads the note, and as if it was a love letter, replies with determination. The paper under it reads:  _ they're nowhere to be found. I've checked with Clint’s ex-wife and she hasn't seen him in ages. The trails are dead ends; no one's reporting anything.  _ “Not really, no. Why do you ask?” Nat tilts her head in a teasing manner, and it's would be an interesting form of roleplay if it weren't for the fact they were both wanted criminals who had the world on their tail. 

Sharon scoots closer, and it really looks like they're about to kiss now, from the window view. Not that Sharon has experience, she's sure Maria didn't particularly count.. She points to a page of the book: “Look at that, isn't it beautiful?” It's a observation and directions to Hank Pym, from the guy called Luis who had rented her the apartment. (He had a melancholy look in his eye, and he had willingly left it for her: she thinks he's missing someone.)

Nat smiles at the news, and it's a genuine smile. One that Sharon hasn't done in  _ months _ but it looks so beautiful that Sharon can't help but be happy about it. They fall asleep on each other, jail and the law at their tail, but safe and happy for just one brief moment.

* * *

 

Hank Pym, they decide early on, is a grumpy asshole of a old man. They're sitting in the table, there are ants everywhere, and there is a old man ranting to them about how some petty thief he had picked off the street had taken his suit to god-knows-where. 

“At least it's not with Stark,” the old man raves and that just as might well have been the only positive thing he had said in the span of 3 hours. 

“So, what do you want?” The old man looks at them, in a questioning and guarded glance. 

Nat's the one leading this. “To send a diplomatic package to King T’Challa of Wakanda.”

The old man scoffs in disbelief. “He was the one who got you arrested, Ms. Romanoff.” 

“Suspiciously, he has not made comments nor definite statements surrounding the controversy. Nor has he allowed them to enter Wakanda with all rights and privileges.” The  _ them _ is unspoken, and it's a chilling thought- the shadow that hung over them at all times. 

“And why Pym Technologies of all locations to use?” Sharon's shamelessly pouring out the open bottle of Gin he has set nearby, but the hangover would be worth it. (She hopes Nat is right, against all odds.)

“Someone called Luis told me that you'd help with anything that needed to be done outside the law.” Sharon downs a third half shot; forgetting will be worth the hangover. 

Sharon notices a sharp intake from the man; it's almost as if he's frozen in place at a name. “Prepare your package, you can stay in the basement for now.” And he scurries out of the kitchen like hell was chasing him. 

Sharon grabs another shot glass, for Nat. Sharon's sure it's going to her head now, because she's rarely ever drunk in the past, and cause Maria Hill told her she was a lightweight. (It had involved the Smithsonian, Prank calling Dernier, and Fifty Seconds to Mars… Bad times, bad times.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell at me on tumblr @raypalmur!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Also- regarding the ex wife thing- Bobbi Morse (aka Mockingbird) was formerly in Agents of Shield, and yeah, it was comic canon that they were together but had a amicable relationship post-divorce. The British flirt is Tv canon true; Lance Hunter (which that being said they get married and divorced and are currently in canon on the run. longg story.)
> 
> Anyway- find me at @raypalmur on tumblr!!


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